


Vanilla Sweet On The Tongue

by TheAlchemistsDaughter



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben is Rey's Boss, Cuddling, Dirty Talk, F/M, Office Sex, Slut-Shaming, Sort Of, This fic is complete but I can't get the chapter count to change, Vanilla Kink, he means it in a good way but she takes it in a bad way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:14:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22057597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAlchemistsDaughter/pseuds/TheAlchemistsDaughter
Summary: Rey likes her boss, Ben, she really does, but she's sick of his rough handling of her. She's sick of only fucking quickly in his office like his dirty little secret. Rey wants sweetness, she wants tenderness, she wants intimacy.So she breaks up with him.But Ben doesn't want to lose her and promises to change.Can she teach him how to make love to her, in a bed, naked, the way she wants, or do they just want different things?
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 53
Kudos: 403





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KyloTrashForever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyloTrashForever/gifts).



The desk rattled as Ben spun her to face it, requiring her to catch herself sharply, her palms coming down hard on the head of a pen which bit into her hand, and she grit her teeth. Clearly, this wasn’t going to go any differently this time.

“You want it, don’t you?” he panted in her ear, pulling her skirt up her thighs and over her ass. He leaned back enough to look at it, palming one cheek before he clapped his hand against it in not quite a spank, and Rey hoped he’d just hurry up. Granted, she had thought of him when she put the thong on that morning, but a more considered appreciation would have been nice. He groaned. “Rey, what you do to me… You can’t wait for it, can you, bad girl?”

Rey thought it was him who couldn’t wait, but if it got him to move on to something she would actually enjoy, she’d play along. She moved her feet further apart, tipping her ass back. “Ben, come on, please.”

His fingers shook as they slipped under her thong to pull it down her legs, letting it hit the floor around her ankles. She heard his belt buckle tinkle, and then he was reaching around her hip to rub her clit, and hot wet pleasure swept through her. She could breathe easier now, rocking into his hand and closing her eyes. As his fingers moved to push inside her, the heel of his palm grinding against her clit instead, she thought yes, this is really good actually. His fingers were just so big, and she knew his cock was big too and it was coming soon and- and she did really like him. He had a beautiful face, a beautiful voice. She’d loved to watch him walk through the building in his impeccable suits every day, commanding every space, hair as black as night, lips pink as a satin pillow. She used to have to press her thighs together and hope her nipples didn’t show through her blouse, but now here they were, doing this together after their sexual tension boiled over. Now she was fucking her boss, in the office, in the middle of the afternoon.

His cock, still clothed in his cotton boxer-briefs but hot and hard, rubbed between her ass cheeks and he groaned again. He pulled his hand out of her, and for a moment, none of him was touching her. She tilted her hips back a fraction more, leaning further over the desk, knowing what was coming though she didn’t really have room. He hadn’t considered the placement of his in-tray when he’d put her here. His cock, smooth with latex, found her entrance and he pushed in.

Rey gasped, her body lighting up. Oh yes, this was very good. Magic cock. Magic.

His chest came to lean against her back, and he puffed against her neck, turning her skin hot and cold in turns. When he thrust, he drove her thighs against the desk painfully and she grunted, adjusting her hands to try to prevent it, but he wasn’t giving her room. She wanted to bend over for a better angle, but he was completely plastered to her. She grimaced. She’d just have to make the best of it.

The first time it had been hot. They had collided in a conference room and he’d had her hoisted up against the wall in his arms, his face in her neck and her legs around his waist before she had even registered it had happened. The first touch of his erection against the cotton of her panties had made her grip his hair and kiss him, consume him. He had been inside her minutes later, and the whole thing was probably over in less than ten minutes. They’d both come embarrassingly quickly, her first. As they had straightened their clothes with a respectable distance between them, he’d looked at her as if he’d just discovered she used to kill people and he needed a hitman, a mix of intrigued horror and relief.

They’d had several more meetings like that, against walls or over desks. Quick and hard joinings. She always came, and she hadn’t ever said no, but… He seemed to think she got off on it, when really it was just him, and these rushed, rough fucks were wearing on her. She’d only started them because she’d taken it as a sign that he liked her as much as she liked him. She wasn’t looking to be his office fuck toy.

He did feel transcendent inside her though, however it happened. Just then he was pumping into her so good, lighting her up, and she moaned, loving the slide of him.

“God, Rey, your pussy’s fucking amazing,” he slurred into her hair, his hands pawing at her breasts through her blouse. She focused on the feel of his dick instead, blocking out the stupid things he was saying and the brutish way he was touching her, leaning on her until he almost crushed her and she got an ache in her back. Just a few minutes more and she would come and then she’d feel better, and it would be over. If she had bruised thighs, well… She had some arnica at home.

“You love it when I fuck you, don’t you? You love this big cock.”

God, did he even hear the shit coming out of his mouth? If she was facing him she could kiss him to shut him up, but other than the first time, he’d only taken her from behind and he hadn’t kissed her again. Another sign this wasn’t the relationship she’d hoped it was that she was trying to ignore.

She liked to think another man would take her silence as a hint, but Ben just put words in her mouth instead, and every time he did, it was like her orgasm moved further away. She took his hand and shoved it to the crux of her thighs instead, hoping he’d get the picture. If she was going to put up with being treated this way, she was at least going to make him make her come.

He rested his forehead against her shoulder as he strummed her clit, and she tightened around him in response, and ooh, yes, just a little more of this, and-

“I’ll never have enough of this greedy little pussy,” he mumbled, and Rey grimaced. Greedy? She resented that. He seemed to want to paint their encounters with him as some kind of irresistible sex god and her as this desperate victim powerless against his generous attentions, and that pissed her off. They had enough of a power imbalance between them with him being her boss, she didn’t want it in their sex life too. She’d thought there they would be equal. Ben laughed, almost as if he’d heard her thoughts. “You’re a slut for me, aren’t you?”

Rey gasped, and her blood ran cold, and then her body was tightening in anger rather than arousal. Anything fun happening inside her died, and she pushed up, trying to stand straight and get him off her. She threw her elbow back into side, and kept doing it. “Stop, get off me,” she snapped.

Ben stumbled back, almost tripping, hobbled by his pants around his ankles. She shot him a cold glare as she pulled her underwear back up and her skirt down. He looked ridiculous standing there bare-legged in his jacket, shirt and tie, with his wet rubbered cock pocking out of the bottom of his shirt.

“What? What is it? Did I hurt you?” he panted, blinking stupidly. He started to reach for her with one hand but she slapped it away.

“I don’t want to do this anymore. I’ve had it. I don’t enjoy it.”

“You… don’t?”

“No, Ben. This isn’t what I wanted so I just- That’s it. No more.” She finished straightening her clothes and stormed to the door.

“Wait!” he reached for her again, almost tripped himself again, and hurried to pull up his pants, but she was already gone, not quite slamming the door behind her.

She walked straight to the bathroom to wipe up and wash her hands, try to ignore the residual warm tingle of his cock inside her. Damn. If only he hadn’t opened his big fat mouth. She could take the bruises and his careless, artless touches, but she wouldn’t be treated like she was cheap. She was worth more than that. She deserved more. She wouldn’t be his toy.

She heard his voice calling her a slut again, and her eyes pricked. She’d slept with him because she liked him, and she didn’t like many men, and she’d thought she was special to him too, but it seemed he really was as horrible as everyone said, and she was just a wet hole for him to get his rocks off in the middle of the day. She bet he never thought about her outside of work, not the way she thought about him when she was home in her pyjamas eating ice cream in front of the TV, or later, in bed.

She finished and headed back to her desk on the office floor. She sat at a bank of four desks pushed together, sharing with Rose, Finn, and Poe, and she’d never wished for cubicle walls more. She knew it showed on her face that she was upset, so she just hoped to broadcast it hard enough that they didn’t dare mention it. She sat down and wiggled her mouse to wake her monitor up as they eyed her in alarm and curiosity. They knew she’d been in Ben’s office, it was an open-plan floor, everyone had seen her walk there and walk out, another reason it had been incredibly stupid to fuck him in there, but she realised she’d thought he’d protect her from any consequences. She wondered if her desk-mates knew she’d been fucking their boss for the last two weeks. She thought Rose and Poe probably suspected, but Finn was a bit more innocent. He had more of a blindspot when it came to her, as if she was his little sister.

A little window popped up in the corner of her screen, a new email, from Ben.

_Dear Miss Johnson,_

_Please see me in my office as soon as possible._

Then his automatic signature.

She stared at it. He was still thinking about papertrails.

She ignored it.

Five minutes later there was another.

_Dear Miss Johnson,_

_I have thoughts to add to our earlier discussion. Please join me in my office._

She ignored it.

Two minutes later her phone rang. The caller ID was Ben. She couldn’t let it ring and annoy everyone, so she just lifted it and dropped it back into its cradle.

“Everything alright?” asked Finn, worried about her without realising maybe he shouldn’t interrogate her in public about fucking their boss. He probably thought Ben had yelled at her or something.

“Fine, just busy,” she muttered, trying to find something to settle to as she glared at her screen.

A moment later, Ben was at the end of her desk, imposing and big as ever. She crossed her legs and hunched her shoulders, her whole body tensing, and she wondered if he’d jerked off or lost his erection or what. She scowled at her screen, the very picture of industry.

He cleared his throat. “Miss Johnson, I have some notes on your project, if you’d like to join me in my office for a moment?”

She shook her head, fighting not to look at him, her nose inches from her screen. “No.”

“No?”

“Busy.”

She could feel him staring at her, hovering there in her peripheral vision. He probably looked the same as he always did to the others, but she knew she’d find the subtle signs that he’d been balls deep in her ten minutes ago. His hair would be just a little ruffled, his tie just a little bit out of line, the flush of his bottom lip just a little out of symmetry where he’d bitten it. She didn’t want to see that, didn’t want to think about the little signs he’d left on her.

The silence stretched until it was awkward. She almost looked at him. It was obvious she wasn’t really doing anything. He broke first.

“Well, at your earliest convenience then.” And he walked away.

They all let out a breath of relief.

“Rey, what did you _do_?” said Rose.

“What did _he_ do?” said Poe, who sounded more enticed than anything else.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she mumbled, realising belatedly that she _couldn’t_ really. It had felt fun to have a secret, daring and romantic, as if they’d been overtaken by passion. Now she just felt boxed in.

She finished the day in a miserable mood, alternately angry and sad. She only checked her phone when she was on the way home, finding two texts from Ben.

_Whatever happened, please call me tonight. I want to talk about it._

_Please._

Two pleases, she noted, her heart giving a traitorous twinge of sympathy and hope. Maybe he did like her, want her.

He’d called her a slut, she reminded herself. Of course he didn’t want to lose his easy lay.

Still, after dinner, she sat with her phone in her hand, and sighed. She should call him, if only because he was her boss and could make life very difficult for her. She curled up into a ball against the arm of her couch and put the phone to her ear.

He answered after two rings. “Rey?”

She told herself she was imagining how frantic he sounded. “Hey.”

He let out a breath, as if just having her on the phone was enough. She waited to let him speak first. “What happened? Did I do something wrong?”

 _You called me a slut_ , she thought, but she didn’t want to say that because then he would apologise, promise not to do it again, and she’d have no reason left not to go back to him. “I meant what I said. I don’t enjoy it and I don’t want to do it again.”

There was a long pause. “So you’re telling me I’m bad in bed?”

“There was never a bed, Ben.” If there had been, she’d probably find it harder to end it.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you always came.” He was getting angry now. She’d offended him. Men and their dicks. He didn’t care that she wasn’t having the fun that he was.

“It’s not about that.”

“Then what the fuck is it about? As I understand it that’s the point.”

She sighed. She hadn’t wanted a fight but she supposed they had to have it out. “You’re right, you always made sure I came, but I want more than that. It wasn’t the type of sex I like, Ben.”

“Well, what type do you like then? Fucking… BDSM? Is that it? You want me to tie you up and hit you? I can do that.”

She waited until she couldn’t hear his breaths anymore. He needed to calm down, and he needed to know she didn’t appreciate that tone. Of course he would go first to making it kinkier and more hardcore than actually offering her any kind of emotional intimacy. 

She might not have answered if he was speaking entirely out of anger, but there was a tremor in his voice that was something else, something vulnerable. “I _want_ a fucking bed, Ben! I want you to kiss me, and touch me gently! I want you to look me in the eye. I want to go on dates, I want you to come round, I want you to spend the night! I’m sick of bruises, and getting fucked over desks and against walls. You’re too rough with me, and the things you say make me feel really degraded. If you want a pet name for me, ‘sweetheart’ will do, not ‘bad girl’ or- or ‘slut’.”

His breath hitched, and she thought the penny might have dropped. That hadn’t been her intention. She hadn’t wanted to _resolve_ this, she’d wanted to end it. She didn’t know why she was talking as if they still had a relationship. She waited for him to speak, and it took a while.

“…Bruises?”

She rolled her eyes. Of course that was what he focused on ( _because he was sweet, really_ , whispered her rebellious heart, but she shut that down). “Yeah, you bruised me, Ben. And I don’t really care but, on top of everything else…”

“I didn’t notice… I never saw-”

“Because we never undress! And it’s not like you spend very long touching me, or even looking at me really.”

“I’m sorry.”

She clenched her jaw against the way his deep voice soaked through her. He made it so easy to believe it was genuine remorse, that her words were affecting him. “Well, it doesn’t matter now.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s over.”

“I don’t want it to be.”

“I do.”

“Because-?” He wisely stopped himself before throwing her words back at her. “I can change.”

“Can you? Why?”

“Because I want to keep you.”

 _Keep fucking me, more like_ , she thought. He hadn’t said he liked her.

“I can… do those things you said. I can take you to dinner and… then back to your place, and we’ll have sex in your bed and I’ll stay the night. We’ll… make love.”

He said it like it was a foreign language, and Rey wasn’t convinced, even as her core tingled in interest. He sounded about as sure of himself as if he was promising to win the Kentucky Derby without a horse.

“Don’t force yourself,” she scoffed.

“I’m not.”

“Come on, Ben, you expect me to believe that’s what you want? That that’s what you’re into?”

“It might be. I wouldn’t know, I’ve… never done it before.”

Rey jerked in surprise. “You’ve never had missionary sex?”

“Not like you described it, no. Not if it requires a bed, and… kissing.”

Did Ben dislike kissing? It almost sounded like it, and that would be something to check up on if they- No. Come on. She was not doing this. He’d been cruel to her. But the words out of her mouth betrayed her. “And no more dirty talk?”

“You think that was dirty talk?” She opened her mouth to respond, indignant, but he hurried on. “Fine, no, you’re right. No dirty talk.”

Rey sighed. She couldn’t believe she was considering this. But damn, she’d really liked him. She didn’t know if she’d ever felt this draw to anyone else. Maybe it made her weak, but she wanted him in her bed like he promised, even if it was only once. And if she still didn’t like it, _then_ she would end it.

“Give me a second chance,” he said. “Don’t give up on me.”

She could feel him wheedling it out of her no matter how she tried to keep it in. “Fine! You get another chance. But you have to be nice to me this time.”

“I will be, good as gold,” he promised.


	2. Chapter 2

Despite her doubts, dinner went well, and now they were walking back to her place. Ben had been stiff all night, as if he expected to be attacked at any moment, but his dry one-liners made her laugh, and when she did his lips twisted in a wry little smile as if he was proud of himself for a moment. Even if his shoulders hunched like he was scared of her, she kept pushing him, asking him about his day and his life, and his answers were peppered with sighs but he did answer. She’d taken his arm when they’d left the restaurant, and she could feel the way his shoulder drew up, trying to pull his arm from her grasp, but this was her price, and if he couldn’t handle this, there was no way he’d get through the intimate sex she wanted.

As she unlocked her door, there was no doubt about what they were there for. He’d only gone to dinner with her as long-winded foreplay. She’d told him what she needed to sleep with him again, and he’d agreed to do it, so here they were. She put her keys away and tried to ignore how he looked filling the doorway of her apartment as he closed the door after them. He was dressed in all black as usual to match his hair. As it was a Saturday, he’d arrived at dinner in a casual jacket and jeans. She’d only ever seen him in suits before, and she wondered if this was his way of showing her more of him, of letting her in, of engaging with her… or if she just didn’t warrant dressing up.

“Do you want a drink or anything?” she asked over her shoulder as she headed for the couch.

He shook his head. “No.”

She sat down and patted the seat next to her.

He approached and sat down, but he said “I thought you wanted a bed.”

“I thought we could start here, kiss a bit.”

He tugged his jeans down his thighs. “Making out like teenagers, cool.”

Rey felt herself harden. She was well-aware he thought all of this a waste of time, but he was doing it, dammit. He could have said no. There was no need to agree if he was just going to bitch.

He opened his arms and motioned her in expectantly, as if to say ‘Come on then.’

Rey slid over to sit beside him, thigh to thigh. “You don’t like kissing?” she said warily.

“It’s fine.”

“But?”

“But I don’t really see the point and I don’t do it very often. I’ve fucked more women than I’ve kissed.” He pulled her into his lap, and she didn’t fight him. Despite the conversation, he was still free and easy with her body, moving her as he pleased, and she still went, straddling him.

Rey stared at him. “I don’t understand how that’s possible.”

He just shrugged, but there was something in his face, in his eyes, something hidden, as if he was trying to make it okay when it really wasn’t.

“Why would you do that?”

“Maybe I don’t want to kiss the women I fuck. Or maybe they don’t want to kiss me, did you ever think of that?”

“No,” she answered without thinking. Who wouldn’t want to kiss him? He was made for it. “Why wouldn’t they want to?”

He paused to walk his fingers up her thigh. “They want me for what I am, not who I am.”

She frowned. “What are you?”

“Do we have to talk about this?” he sighed.

She didn’t want to force him, but… “I want to know you,” she said quietly.

He watched his fingers edging up the hem of her skirt, then dropped his hand flat to squeeze her thigh. “My mother is rich and important. My grandfather was also rich and important. Everyone tells me I am, or was going to be, rich and important.” He kept his voice light and his eyes down as his thumb rubbed her skin. He tilted his head whimsically. “The girls in school knew it.” He tilted his head the other way. “The girls in college knew it. All the women who want something from me, they know it. I don’t care, it’s not a big deal, but it doesn’t make for a lot of kissing.”

Had that truly been his experience? That was unexpectedly sad. “You said you hadn’t ever had sex in a bed before either.”

“I have. Usually it’s a car or a couch, but there’s been the odd hotel room.” He pretended to pull himself back together, looking into her face with a cool smile, and how she hated that smile. “But not the way you described it. Not lying down, the way boring people do it.”

She frowned, but she knew what he was doing, trying to make her angry to distract her and change the subject. “Then why are you doing this? Why did you agree to…?”

“First time for everything?”

“Ben.”

He moved his hands from her thighs to link them behind her hips, capturing her. “I told you. I’m not ready to give you up. I don’t want to.” Something real broke his fake, pleasant smile, and he licked his lips as if hoping to disguise its loss. When he spoke again, his flip tone was gone. “I _am_ sorry I hurt you before.” He played with the hem of her skirt again, checked her face, then pushed it up before he could hesitate any longer. The bruises from the desk were faint, just starting to come in. He didn’t touch them, but bracketed his hand underneath as if measuring their span. “I’m an asshole,” he muttered, and he’d never sounded so sincere.

Rey cupped his jaw and pulled his face back up, shifting a little closer down his thighs. “So make it up to me.”

He made a noise between a grunt and a considering hum. “Kissing, right?”

She nodded. “I want to kiss you, Ben.”

He let his head drift to the back of the sofa, his eyes going half-lidded, a picture of passive submission. “Go on then. Have at me.”

With her hands either side of his face, she dipped her mouth slowly, watching his eyes, but he gave no indication of his feelings. He was just letting her do as she wanted, so she looked to his mouth instead and pressed her lips to his, full and soft and oh. Yes. This was what she wanted. Even if he didn’t kiss her back at first, she let her breath out through her nose in a content sigh and relaxed into him, chest to chest. He woke up a little, lifting his head and pressing his lips back against hers, so she looped her arms around his neck, toying with the ends of his hair that felt like silk against her fingertips. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him.

She wanted to kiss him well, after what he had said. She wanted to show him how it could be. Maybe what she felt when she was like this with him was a fantasy, and he really was just an unfeeling bastard, but she couldn’t tell her heart that. Just this one kiss had her floating, just feeling his lips under hers. As hard and unwieldy as his personality could be, this part of him was soft and perfect, a dream.

She flicked her tongue against his lip, probably imagining the sweetness she tasted there, and his tongue came out to hers as his hand went to the back of her head to hold her in place. As she took his tongue into her mouth, she melted against him even more, her arms sliding from around his neck so she could squeeze his shoulders through his sweater and lay her hands on his chest.

God, she loved tongue-kissing. She didn’t know why people didn’t talk about it more. She just thought there was something so intimate and precious about his tongue sliding against her own, wet and softer than soft as it swelled into her mouth then retreated in a dance he had mastered, and she whimpered mutely. More, more, more. More like this, of this tenderness, of his big hand supporting her head and his body between her thighs, shifting with his breaths as if she weighed nothing. She let him lead the kiss. She let him court her with it. 

When he broke the kiss, it took her a few seconds to blink her eyes open again. She felt drugged. She enjoyed being close to him too much. She wanted their faces together, their chests together. She wanted to live in the same space. He was so solid against her, perfect, even if they weren’t skin to skin.

He chuckled. “You really liked that, huh?” He jostled her as he resettled her on his lap, changing his hold. “So what else do I have to do to get you into bed?”

It was like a slap in the face. The warm fuzzy feeling drained out of Rey, chased by cold. She started pushing away from him, trying to climb off him, but just as she got one foot on the floor he caught her arm and started pulling her back.

“Wait, wait, okay, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry…”

She gave up fighting his superior strength and let him pull her back, hugging her to his chest and pushing her head under his jaw. She stayed there and sulked. He smelled nice and he was warm, it was a good place to sulk.

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

She didn’t say anything, still trying to sort her feelings. It had been so good, and then he’d ruined it, and she was trying to decide if it was worth another attempt.

“I’m an idiot.”

No argument from her there.

“Rey?” He pulled back, trying to look at her face so she turned it the other way, looking across his arm. “Rey, come on… Don’t just give me the silent treatment, say something.”

“Don’t make fun of me for what I want.”

“I wasn’t!” When she didn’t say anything further, he sighed. His hand rubbed between her shoulder blades. “I didn’t mean to.” He sounded disappointed in himself.

The rubbing was nice, and his strong body under and around her was more convincing than it should have been. Thinking that this was probably her last chance to get him naked and close to her the way she wanted, she decided to power through. “I don’t want you to fake it just so you can get your end wet. I want a connection with you. If you don’t want that with me then we should just stop.”

“I don’t want to stop. I want to keep going.” He reached up and swept her cheek with the back of his finger. “I can be nice,” he murmured low. He was trying to seduce her, and the annoying thing was that it was working. “I just need a teacher. Teach me, Rey. I want to learn.”

She stared at him, considering. He didn’t look like he was lying, but… she understood that everything he did, he was doing to sleep with her. No matter what he said, that was his goal. If she took that off the table, he’d leave, he wouldn’t see a point in being there. As far as he was convinced, what she was asking was just a fetish that he didn’t hate enough to refuse to do. It could have been shibari for all the difference it would make to him. He would still learn to do it just so he could fuck her afterwards.

The question was, was that reason enough to give up on him?

Could she enjoy kissing him again knowing he was just putting up with it?

How could she keep giving in to the same man?

“Do you like kissing me?”

She saw the flitter of fear in his eyes and knew whatever he said next would be a carefully constructed white lie.

“I like kissing you,” he said. “But I’d like to do other things too.”

She chewed the inside of her lip, frustrated. He couldn’t even pretend properly. Did she want to fuck him anyway? She’d gone into it knowing what might happen, that this might be the last time, a test to see if he could give her what she wanted. Maybe he couldn’t.

She was still thinking about it when he took her face in his hands and kissed her. She recognised it for what it was. He didn’t want her to change her mind so he was going on the attack… but it was a very nice attack. He caught her bottom lip between his, making her suck in a quiet breath at the gentle tug, then he was back to nibble from the plump centre to the corner. He licked over where his teeth had been, soothing, and she was fully his. She just wanted more of this from him. How could he have this inside him and not use it? Why did he insist on keeping it from her?

She hooked one arm around his neck and kissed him back, and this time his hands didn’t wander, they stayed at her waist, making out like teenagers, like he’d said. Maybe he was learning.

Eventually it was her who moved on, sliding her free hand down his chest and over his stomach to the hem of his sweater, and dipping her fingers underneath to touch his skin. She felt how it pushed over his belt, and then his hand caught hers and pulled it away.

She leant away from the kiss, and looked at him for an explanation.

He looked sheepish, licking his lips and dropping his eyes, but his hand was still on her arm, incriminating him.

“You don’t want me to touch you?” she asked.

He cleared his throat.

“Ben?”

“I just…”

“Another thing you’ve never done before? Or that you don’t usually do?”

“Look, maybe it’s obvious and easy for you, but it’s not for me. I normally keep my clothes on.”

Rey sat back. He was lashing out, which meant it was serious, so she didn’t want to force him but God, she was so _disappointed_. She wanted to see him, and feel him. It was a huge part of what she liked about sex. And Ben promised to be so _beautiful_ under his clothes.

“You’ve got a T-shirt on under it?” she said, her voice a little rough. She’d felt the cotton. “Could you just take the sweater off for now?”

He studied her for a moment as if she was up to something or he’d expected a different reaction, then he slowly pulled the sweater off. As he lifted his arms, she could smell his deodorant. The neck of the sweater caught on his ears just for an instant, and his hair fell back down in a cloud that he quickly tidied with his fingers. The T-shirt was black, of course, and short-sleeved, and that was already more skin than she’d ever seen on him before and she stared at his bare arm. She wanted to touch. She wanted to feel. She could see more moles and freckles, and she wanted to lick each one. They were just arms but still somehow they entranced her. It was the smooth tone of his skin, their size and sturdiness, the dark hair on his forearms.

It knocked her breath out.

“Is it- Do you not want me to touch you, or… Is it where I touch you, or-?”

“You can touch my arms,” he said in a tone of resigned indulgence, but she didn’t care, she reached out and wrapped her hand around his bicep. Well, as much as she could. Her hand only fit around the outside. Her core tightened in anticipation at just that simple skin-to-skin touch. She slid her hand down to his elbow, then went back to squeeze his bicep again.

“Should I be flexing?” he teased.

She pulled her eyes back to his face, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

He smiled, the barest tug on the corners of his mouth. “It’s okay.”

Rey’s eyes fell back to his T-shirt. “You didn’t answer my question. Should I not touch you through your shirt?”

“You can touch me, it’s fine.” To demonstrate, he leant back and moved her hand to his stomach.

“But not your skin?”

He took a deep breath. “I’m just not used to it.”

“Should we go to the bedroom? We can turn the lights off. Will you feel better when I take my dress off?”

His smile grew twice as big, twice as crooked, and twice as real. His hands slid up her sides, but he checked himself before his thumbs touched her breasts which had obviously been his target. “That’s bound to improve my mood, yeah.”

“I meant-”

“I know what you meant.” He looked back at her eyes. “I’ll take my shirt off for you, Rey, since you want it so badly, and since you’re all about being nice.” He leant forward and brushed her hair back from her ear with his nose so he could kiss behind her jaw. “As long as you know you’re the first.”

Again his voice held that deep tone it only did when he was speaking from behind his shields, when he wasn’t pretending anything. It was that voice that had got Rey this far, believing there was more to him.

With that, she reached behind her and unzipped her dress, then pulled the front off her body and down her arms. She undid her bra and put it on the sofa cushion beside them, feeling his eyes burn her. Then, she lifted his hands and put them to her breasts.

Ben let out a long exhale, his eyes on his hands on her breasts. She couldn’t bring herself to believe he’d never done this before, but… maybe not in a long time. His thumb traced the inside curve softly, as if getting her dimensions, and her blood heated. His hands were so big, they covered her completely, his fingertips brushing her collarbone. His palms flexed just a little, and she let her hands fall away, letting him take over. He gathered one breast into his hand, squeezing, then he looked to the other one and ran his thumb over her nipple.

He shifted in his seat, glanced at her face, then sat up and slowly leant forward to kiss down her neck to her collarbone. It still had the feel of a performance, something he was making himself do, but he was doing it very well. His lips were just light enough to tease, and Rey’s breath shuddered out of her on a sigh as she tipped her head back and closed her eyes, opening her body up to him. His big hands moved to her ribs to lift her to his mouth as he leant down, his lips trailing over her breast to her nipple, where she eagerly anticipated him. Before they reached it, he doubled back, skimming his lips up instead, and she gave a mew of disappointment. She felt him smile against her skin.

He pressed kisses over her heart, flicked his tongue over her breast, moving down again until he circled her nipple with it, making it tighten up.

“Ben…” she sighed. This was more like it. Gentle touches, soft teases.

She felt him smile again, and then he took her nipple into his mouth, hot like a brand, and Rey rolled her cunt over him, seeking out his stiffening dick. He pressed his tongue to her nipple achingly slowly, and she gasped. He was good at this. He took her nipple between his lips, pulling off her slowly, let her feel the soft smooth inside of his lips before switching to her other breast for the same treatment.

When he sucked hard, hard enough that she felt the blood rush, sharp and almost painful, she gasped and looked down at him, finding his eyes turned up to her and mischievous. He straightened, putting his face close enough to hers to kiss, his eyes hooded and smug while his hands cupped her breasts and his thumbs rolled her nipples.

“Good?”

She looked at him, honestly a little stunned. He was so beautiful. She raised her hand to his cheek and traced the side of his nose with her thumb, then mapped the edge of his lip. She nodded. “We can go to the bedroom now if you want.”

He looked almost surprised, but then it was gone as he sat back and held her hand as she got up on shaky legs. She pushed her dress off her hips so that she stood before him in just her underwear, while he was still dressed in his jeans and T-shirt. He even still had his boots on. She pulled on his hand, and he followed her up and through her apartment to her bedroom. She crawled up to sit on the bed, her legs folded under her, and faced him.

“Shoes and socks,” she told him.

With a muted, put-upon huff she barely caught, he lifted his foot to the bedframe and started unlacing his boot, his hair falling into his face. Rey watched, content to wait. He did one then the other, then wobbled as he toed out of them, and pulled off his black socks. Rey leaned forward to see his bare feet sticking out from under the cuffs of his jeans, and grinned. He folded his arms, his toes bunching self-consciously.

“You’re not going to tell me you have a thing for feet, are you?” he said gruffly.

“No, but I do like your feet.”

He sighed. “Do you?”

She did. She liked seeing them, too. Feet were often the ugliest part of a person, and they were only seen in intimate situations, like the shower, swimming, or if someone was in their pyjamas. Rey liked to see a man’s feet, because it usually meant that man meant something to her, and she to him, that he had let her into his home and relaxed around her. Ben’s feet were long and bony, his knuckles knobbly, and his nails were clean but roughly cut.

She looked her fill, then back up at him. She went onto her knees and walked towards him, reaching for his belt and undoing it. She pressed her palm into his cock, thick and swollen, before ripping open the poppers on his fly with a tug. Freed from the denim, his cock bulged in his cotton boxers, and she stared as she pulled his jeans down his thighs. He kicked them off for her, and she knelt before him, reaching up for another kiss. She moved his hands back to her breasts, and he kept her warm.

She pulled back just enough to whisper, “Do you want to take your shirt off now?”

He grunted, and she gave him room to pull it over his head, the cotton rasping against his hair and crackling with static. When he tossed it to the floor, his expression was carefully shuttered, giving nothing away as she looked him over.

She didn’t see anything that might make him self-conscious, and he didn’t cringe away from her when she rested her hand on his sternum. He was thick-set, meaty, with no waist to speak of, but she didn’t see a single inch to be ashamed of. No heavy scars, no ill-advised tattoos, no large birthmarks. All she saw were the same moles that dotted his face, that she already loved. She pressed a kiss to his shoulder, then another, and another. She kept them soft, and she hoped he understood what she was trying to tell him; that he had no reason to hide, that she liked him exactly as he was.

When he didn’t stop her, she let her hands explore, and now she could feel his breath shake though his stomach, against her fingers. Her hands felt tiny against the monument of his body. She brushed his nipples but got no response as he waited patiently for her to be done. Just to tease him, she kissed him there, licking his nipple lightly and watching his face. He narrowed his eyes, and she smiled.

She traced the muscles in his stomach with her thumbs. She watched him breathe for a moment, watched his body swell and work with it. She kissed his stomach, heading down this time, and flicked her eyes up to his face as she tucked her fingers into his waistband. When she started to pull and he didn’t stop her, she pushed them off him, letting them fall to his ankles.

She was familiar with his cock already, or at least, she’d thought she was. Looking at it now, she wondered. Maybe she’d never really seen it before, never touched it. It was hard now, standing big and imposing from the nest of black curls above his balls, but she thought it could be harder. Maybe he was nervous? She took it in her hand, feeling the hot skin shift, silk over an iron bar. She opened her mouth and licked a few inches of the underside to get his taste and he sucked in a breath, but when she looked at him he looked just as immobile as before.

A feeling like excitement burst in her. Rey liked sucking cock under the right circumstances, sometimes she liked it a lot. It was an intimate, affectionate and trusting act. Affectionate because it was giving pleasure just for his sake, because she wanted him to feel good. Trusting because he had to trust her not to bite, she had to trust him not to thrust too hard. She enjoyed taking a man into her mouth, but there was still something about Ben that was just that little bit _more_. Maybe because he’d denied her this intimacy before, maybe because she could finally just take her time, but also just because it was _him_. For all his faults and bad behaviour, she still liked him. She knew there was good in him, even if sometimes he didn’t act like it.

“I thought we were being nice?” Ben said, his voice a rough growl.

“You don’t think this is nice?” she asked, stroking him idly to make her point, his thigh twitching in the corner of her eye.

“I thought nice was, you know… missionary, pyjamas, silent sex under the covers in the dark.”

“I only ever wanted to touch you, Ben, and see you, and take the time to enjoy ourselves.”

He touched her cheek, his fingertips hovering in front of her ear, unsteady. “I’m sorry you didn’t enjoy it before.”

“I… I liked the first time, and the second time, but I thought it would change things and it didn’t. I don’t mind if it’s just sex, but I want you to at least pretend to like me.”

His brows drew together. “I do like you. Rey, I do.”

She smiled. He sounded like he meant that. “I like you too, Ben.” She stroked his cock again, since it was pointing determinedly at her cheek. “Do you want me to do this?”

He swallowed. “If you want to.”

She nodded, trying to reassure him, then turned and stroked his foreskin back to lick the head of his cock, making him hum softly. The texture of a cockhead was so unique. She enveloped him slowly, imagining how it would feel to him, the hot wet heat of her mouth sinking down his shaft. She squeezed his base where she stood no chance of reaching with her mouth, and he groaned, his hands coming up to hold her head, fingers threading into her hair.

“Rey… Your fucking mouth… It’s fucking magic…”

She would have smiled if she didn’t have his cock in her mouth, so she just worked harder, sucking him with the insides of her cheeks against him.

He grunted, his chin on his chest as he watched her. “Rey, you’ve got to tell me how to compliment you when you do shit like this without using dirty talk, because I can’t think of a fucking thing to say that isn’t going to offend you.”

She pulled off him, sucking her lips into her mouth to tidy up. She twisted her hand up and down him, gathering the spit she had left on him to ease her strokes. “You can just say I’m doing well.”

He shook his head. “That doesn’t cover it, doesn’t even _start_ to- Oh fuck, just let me fuck you, do we have to do this?” He sounded almost petulant.

Rey giggled. “Okay.” She slipped her thumbs into her panties over her hips, pausing to look at him before pulling them down and taking them off.

His eyes were riveted between her legs, and he didn’t resist her when she took his hand to guide him down to lie on top of her after she moved her head to the pillow. He knelt between her legs in the space she made, the mattress dipping and bed slats creaking. She pulled him forwards until he was on all fours, his hands at her shoulders. He looked like he had no idea what he was doing.

She let his hand go and reached for her nightstand drawer, pulling out the box of condoms she kept there and tossing it to the empty side of the bed. “For when you’re ready.”

“Am I not ready now?” he asked, looking around as if he’d forgotten something that might be found lying next to them.

Rey put her hands to his biceps, his shoulders tense as he held himself up, the landscape of his body changing in such fascinating ways as his muscles flexed. With a gentle pressure, she coaxed him down to her. He moved his knees so he could fit his body to hers, and they were finally flush from hips to chest. “I want you to use your hands,” she whispered. She remembered how brusque he had always been with this part. “Gently.”

He let a breath out through his nose like she was inconveniencing him, but she didn’t take it to heart. Instead, she let her herself shiver as he trailed his hand down her stomach and into the hollow of her hip, his thumb brushing over her short pubic hair, and then his fingers rubbed softly into the seam of her. She was already wet, had been since they were making out on the couch, and she sighed and relaxed, sinking into the bed. She tugged him down on top of her, pulling him into a kiss. She gripped his shoulders as best she could, her hands only sitting on top of them, then slid them down his arms to map his muscles.

As he pushed his fingers into her, she got the same feeling of blissful contentment that she did when his tongue was in her mouth. Her man was touching her, gently, like she wanted. His lips were against hers, his tongue against hers, his chest against hers, big and broad and warm, sheltering. His hair brushed her cheek, and she could hear him breathing. His cock was hard against her thigh, and she wanted for nothing. This was how it should be. This was what she’d wanted all along. His thumb found her clit and she moaned.

He broke the kiss so naturally she barely noticed. “Is two enough or do you want more?”

“Mmm, I can do more…” On his next stroke into her, the stretch was heavier, and she stiffened for a moment, but it quickly melted into a rush of hot pleasure. She wrapped her arms around his wide ribs and hugged his hips with her thighs. She turned her head to the side, offering her throat. “Kiss… my neck…”

“Bossy,” he murmured, but then his lips were there, and her whole body tensed like a violin string, vibrating with his touch. She gasped and the breath came out as a moan. His lips were so soft and kissed her so tenderly. When he licked over her pulse, she melted, and he stayed there to work her into a puddle. She could happily live and die just like that.

“Ben… Ben, mmh, yes, please… You- you can- I want-” She fumbled for one of the condoms that had spilled from the box.

He drew his fingers out of her and took it from her. “What? Tell me.”

She felt the vibrations of his voice in the tendons of her neck. She swallowed. “Please. Do it. Hurry.”

“What do you want? Can you say it? Or would that count as dirty talk?”

“Ben,” she whined. “Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not. I’m just asking you to ask… nicely.”

She turned to look at him, her eyes big and soft. “You. I want you, please. Make love to me, like you said.”

He grunted, looking at her for a moment longer, his eyes mapping her face. Then he pushed to his knees, tearing open the condom. “You’ve never begged like that before,” he mused, dressing his cock, her legs hooked around his thighs. She watched, her pulse thrumming in anticipation, her body singing. She didn’t feel shy about being so open in front of him. She just wanted to touch him again.

“I always wanted you.”

“But?”

“But you always stayed so far away.”

His dark eyes flicked to hers. The fact that he didn’t immediately brush her off with some flip comment made her think she had got through to him, and there was something in his eyes like a reluctant hope buried under everything else. Slowly, he lowered himself over again, and she accepted him with her hands on his back.

Then he pushed inside her, maybe just to get out of replying. She moaned anyway, her mouth dropping open at the feel of him so thick and long, reaching further than his fingers had, a more perfect fit. Her hands clutched at his skin, and he watched her, studying her face as if he had never seen it before. His jaw clenched, and his breath came faster. When he drew back to thrust in again, she tightened her legs around him, her insides squeezing his cock. As he started fucking her, she hugged him to her, pressing her face into his neck then kissing him as best she could when she was so out of breath.

His thrusts were careful, steady and even, not going as deep as he normally did, and she could feel the control it was taking in the rigidity of his body. Usually he pounded into her until she ached, but he was clearly still trying for her.

“It’s okay,” she panted, tracing her nose up his throat, licking where sweat was starting to bead. “I’ve got you. You can go deeper.”

He groaned and altered his thrusts until she was taking all of him every time, and she stroked a hand down his side. “Rey… you never told me… what to say…”

“Wh- What do you want to say?”

He groaned. “I want to tell you what a fucking slave I am for this cunt, how much I need it, I can’t live without it.”

Rey tried to catch her breath enough to speak. “Just… Just say that to _me_ , not my- not _that_.”

He hummed. “I thought it was implied.”

“It wasn’t.”

Even as his hips worked to fill her furiously, making the bed creak in a way she’d never heard before, his lips trailed softly to her ear. “Okay, Rey… I need you. Don’t make me live without you. You’ve made me your fucking slave.”

Her whole body seized, her cunt on his cock, her hands on his back, and she felt her body heat with impending orgasm. “Oh!” It was amazing what a few kind words could do… but she knew it wasn’t that. There was a confession in what he had said. He liked her too, maybe more than she liked him, and she already knew she wanted _everything_ with him if she could have it. “Ben, m- me too.”

He laughed breathlessly, the puff of air sending tingles rippling over her skin.

She didn’t like that. She pulled his head back with a hand in his hair, making him take his weight on his elbows. She stared into his eyes. “I need you too,” she whispered.

Maybe it was because he was inside her and minutes from coming, but his usual armour was down. Instead all she saw in his bottomless eyes was how much he’d wanted to hear her say that.

“Make me come,” she continued, tracing his full bottom lip with her thumb. As he nodded, she nodded along with him, delirious. “Watch me come, okay?”

He nodded again, and wrestled one arm under her back to pull her against him, and she thrilled at his strength. It changed the angle of his thrusts as he sped up, each one so deliberate she knew they were for her, for her pleasure. Their skin was slick against each other, his breath rasping, a background to her pants and gasps and moans. He was loving her _so well_.

“Ben, Ben-” She stiffened in his hold, her body pressing against his as her cunt squeezed and squeezed. She cried out, but she never lost his eyes as she shook apart, she just held him tighter, nails sinking in.

When her orgasm released her, her cunt numb and over-sensitised as he chased his own orgasm, she pulled his arm out from under her, letting herself slump back down to the bed and pulling him to her. She stroked his face. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “You can fuck me how you like.”

He made a noise between a grunt and a sob, catching it behind red lips, then hiding his face in her neck. He put one hand to her hip and his rhythm fell apart into wild, fast thrusts, and then he was shivering and groaning, and she put her hands to the small of his back, pushing him inside.

He didn’t go limp and collapse on her the way some men had, not Ben. He stayed in control even then, his frame unshakeable, but Rey liked this part too much to let him go right away. She wrapped her arms around him and stroked his hair, hugging him so that their pulses beat together where their necks touched. Even if she was tender where he was slowly deflating inside her, leaving her feeling tingly and swollen and sodden, she loved the weight of him between her thighs, the solid heat of his chest against hers. Even if she was tiny and flattened under him, she could still do her best to hold him when he needed her like this, until he came back to himself.

After a moment, he took a loud breath and pulled out of her, then rolled away to sit up and tie off the condom. Rey closed her legs, but otherwise didn’t move. She hoped they would cuddle. She hoped they wouldn’t revert to how they had been. They’d changed things, hadn’t they? He found her bin, and then he reached behind him and took her wrist in his hand. It wasn’t a gentle hold. It didn’t hurt, but it was tight, and Rey realised it was a shackle. He didn’t turn to look at her.

Rey waited, watching his big back pump with his breath, his sweat catching in the light, but he didn’t say anything. “Ben?” His hand covered half her forearm. “I won’t run away.” She was half-joking as she sat up and tried to prise his fingers off her, but from the way he held on- “That’s… That’s what you’ve been afraid of all this time, isn’t it? That’s why you were always so fierce, why you held me in place and pushed me around. Oh, Ben…”

Caught, he let her loosen his grip, and she moved to sit behind him. She laced her hands over his stomach and hooked her chin over his shoulder, pressing her breasts to his back. “I’m not going to run away. I like you.”

He was clammy with sweat and the room stunk of sex, but she didn’t care. After a moment, he covered her hands – both of them – with one of his, and turned his face to hers. She rested her cheek on his shoulder instead. “I like you too,” he murmured, and he sounded so young she wondered if he’d ever said those words as an adult.

“Lie down with me. You said you’d spend the night and I want to cuddle.”

Standing, she pulled him up after her and pulled back the covers, then steered him into her bed and climbed in after him.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Twitter @A_O_3_T_A_D :) :) :)


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